The Way He Looks at You Series
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II: Want
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Story Master List: The Way He Looks at You Series
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Chapter Summary
Cal reaches out to a trusted friend to figure out what was wrong with the celebratory food.
Rating: 18+
Words: 1.8K
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I stand in my office, wearing the thick material of my Inquisitor pants and only my undershirt; a tank top. I sit at my desk, but find the fabric, while useful in hiding an erection, rather abrasive when sitting with said erection.
The holopad sits centered on my desk, a new staple of my life. While my Light was in a coma, I sought comfort; finding solace in the plethora of stories housed in the handheld device. I attempted to read her stories, but our tastes differ and it became painful to read the words that she once held dear.
I lean against the desk’s edge, finding small comfort in the position and pick up the treasured reader. Sending a message to my most trusted advisor, Kaahlii.
Kaahlii,
I may have made a mistake. What do you know about Camby berries and Chak juice? Are they both safe for human consumption?
-Cal
I wait, my free hand palming my erection, desperate for relief from the painful discomfort of being unnaturally hard. Kaahlii, ever reliable, doesn’t make me wait long for a response.
Thirteenth Brother Cal,
Odd to hear an Inquisitor admit to a mistake, perhaps there is hope for you yet. I am aware of the traditional food. Naboo is home to many Cambylictus trees and the people there, human and otherwise, consume it regularly.
The Chak juice is a different story. It only comes from the Spirit Tree on Endor. However, there are no cases of human consumption being a problem.
How did you get your hands on it?
-Kaahlii
Owner and Operator of Second Chance Literature
I chuckle at the dig towards my kind. Kaahlii’s a straight shooter, something I like; gone are the days of honesty. Most fear me and speak to appease my temper. Those above me care not for my personal development. Kaahlii is an outlier; she has never feared me, perhaps because Light likes her and I love my Light. Or maybe because she can tell when I’m bluffing.
Kaahlii,
You don’t have to be so formal with me, please. You said yourself this is a secure way to contact you. I know your technology exceeds the best of the Empire.
The Camby berries came from Naboo, but the Chak juice… You’re going to be mad at me. Go easy on me, okay? I got them from a goods smuggler.
Also, your bookstore has a name? Why did you put your position and business too?
-Just Cal
The carnal need is driving me mad. I consider throwing care to the wind and demanding my Light’s body, taking her as I had before the accident. But I resist, refusing to sacrifice progress for my own selfish needs. To my relief, the reader chimes and my eyes scan the screen, eager for a distraction.
Just Thirteenth Brother Cal,
This is a secure line, but considering how loose you operate with safety (the Black Market, really?), I’m not sure that you won’t slip up and let my technology fall into the hands of someone with more sinister values.
I’ll need a moment to research with this new and horrifying information. Also, Rosara continues to ask when you will read for the children again. You should visit as soon as you are able.
You would know my business had a name if you had ever bothered to enter as a customer. It’s called a signature. Businesses use it to seem more professional when messaging clients.
-Kaahlii
Owner and Operator of Second Chance Literature
I smile at the prospect of seeing Rosara, another person who sees my true nature. I type out a message to Kaahlii, emphasizing my original name.
Kaahlii,
I know, I messed up; I was just trying to do something special for her. I’ll await your research, though, if you can, faster is preferable.
Visitation will be a possibility once things are more stable here. I fear she’ll run if I take her anywhere at the moment.
-Cal Kestis
Minutes elongate as I wait for Kaahlii’s response. I stealth towards the open door, wondering if my Light is feeling similar effects. She sits on our couch, the back of her head visible. I look harder; one shoulder moves rhythmically, barely perceivable. A smile creeps across my face. She is needy, too.
I listen, wanting to catch any of the sweet sounds that fall from her mouth as she works. Frustration leads me to peer into her mind, hoping to hear her desire, hoping she thinks of me.
She imagines a compromising position and, to my delight, I see I am in control of her pleasure. My face buried between her thighs, her head thrown back in open-mouthed ecstasy. My fingers stuffed deep inside her hungry cunt, curling and relaxing with each thrust.
I rub myself through my clothes, wishing to give into her desires. If she would only ask, I would eat her out until my tongue stopped working. The holopad dings and her head turns as I move out of view, walking back to my desk in silence.
Inquisitor Cal, Thirteenth Brother Kestis,
I’m afraid that I may now know why you are so eager for a hurried response. I truly do not want to imagine you in this light. I’d rather hear of the crimes you’ve committed against your fellow Jedi.
The Black Market is an unreliable resource for novelty goods, something I should not have to explain to someone with so much power. Chak juice is often cut with a nectar commonly found in Kashyyyk. This allows dealers to keep a high price while giving you a fraction of what you were hoping for. The taste is similar enough but has a few unfortunate side effects.
It is commonly used by black market animal breeders, to encourage their stock to stay plentiful. The side effect is similar in humans: high sex drive.
That’s not all, it also causes memory loss.
Cal, I know you stopped reading at those words, but come back and bear with me. The memory loss is only of the day of consumption, nothing else. You aren’t going to lose her again. I promise.
If anything, she may be more eager to spend some…quality time with you. Do yourself a favor and delete the messages from today. It’s not worth the stress you will feel later when trying to piece together more lost memories.
-Kaahlii
Owner and Operator of Second Chance Literature
I freeze, sickened, knowing she will forget again. Rage bubbles at the loss; a day I made for her, to honor and love her, to show her I can be everything she wants.
I consider writing myself a detailed note, outlining the events of today, hoping to preserve what will soon be gone. Kaahlii’s words ring true; I can’t cause myself more stress with another unsolved mystery. I consider meditating on the matter, but the dull ache of being hard reminds me I lack the blood to think clearly.
After consideration, I delete the messages and decide I will clean the kitchen and erase any evidence of today. To avoid further confusion, I create a mess on my desk, hoping my future self will assume I was completing mundane activities on the missing day. I stride toward the kitchen, knowing there are no consequences for today’s actions. Intentions set on making the most of it.
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You almost jump out of your skin when Cal’s footsteps approach from behind you.Stilling your frantic movements as your heart pumps a surge of adrenaline through your body.
Cal doesn’t glance at you, busy instead cleaning the kitchen. You sit there, paralyzed, wondering if he is reading your mind, aware of the need at your core. He doesn’t seem to notice, but you aren’t sure. You debate excusing yourself to the bathroom, but his arms being on display keeps you firmly seated on the couch.
Your eyes drink in his beauty, looking over every inch of exposed skin, feeling disappointed he wore a shirt. Cal doesn’t glance up, as he often does when you admire him in your mind. He looks distracted, maybe even disappointed.
You decide to take a risk, bringing your hand back between your legs. The movements are timid, attempting to enjoy yourself in secret. But your eyes track Cal’s every movement, though your head angles forward.
Cal washes the dishes by hand, laying them to dry on a towel, his biceps flexing as he scrubs. Sparks of pleasure shoot through you as you make contact, using three fingers to sweep the entire area in long drags. The needy ache seems momentarily appeased, but demands more, urging you to watch the attractive man that could solve your problem.
He turns to the counter and furrows his eyebrows. You watch, eyes raking over his arms, following down as he uses his middle and ring finger, gliding it along the stone surface. Your heart skips a beat at the extremely intimate gesture. The motion stops and he holds the hand before his eyes, curling the two filthy fingers to rub smoothly against his thumb; determining the counter will need cleaning.
Unconsciously, your hand imitates the motion, stuffing yourself with the same two fingers and curling just as Cal had. You press your lips together, calming yourself. But your mind pictures Cal’s fingers instead, begging you to ask for his help. You refuse the impulse, but don’t look away.
Cal wipes down the counters before moving to dry and put away the pile of clean dishes. He opens every cabinet and drawer necessary, and upon completion, he moves to close them all. Only, he doesn’t close the drawers with his hands. Instead, placing his hands on the counter and using his pelvis to bump them closed. The movement is inherently sexual.
You’d typically laugh, but the desire in your belly replaces the humor with lust. Feeding the fire and creating imaginary intimate scenes with the man. Picturing laying beneath him while he thrusts deep into you, claiming your body. You want to know what he might feel like.
Your thumb brushes over your clit, and a tiny moan slips out. Cal looks up, eyes dark and focused. Yours widen in panic, awkwardly clearing your throat. He says nothing, and it feels worse.
He resumes working, and you slide your fingers out, wiping the mess on your thighs. You toss the blanket to the side, heading for the back of his quarters, needing to finish in private. Cal also heads for the hallway, forcing you to dodge to squeeze past him.
Except you stumble, and Cal’s warm hand envelops your upper arm. You look up, meeting his eyes. Time stands still.
Your mind, hazed with lust, draws your attention down to his full lips. The heat of his gaze lingers on your face, waiting. He smells good, and he’s so close, it wouldn’t take much.
Your body decides for you, a tiny step forward, lifting your chin. Cal leans down to meet you halfway. Your lips collide, hands quick to find purchase on the other’s body. Yours in his damp hair, fisting handfuls of the soft coppery waves. Cal’s find the backs of your thighs, lifting you to wrap around him as he presses you into the wall. Everything in your body lights up.
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Next Chapter: Need
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An Exchange of Favors || Xavier, January, & Ariel || July 26-27, 2023
Xavier: Even though the confirmation he'd needed to make this visit had come mere hours after his conversation with Rhys, Xavier chose to wait a bit before returning to January Embers. It was as Rhys had said; timing was everything. If he came too soon, he'd tip his hand. Too late, and there was every chance the visit would no longer be required. A misstep could not be afforded.
Regardless of if Rohan and his DJ ended up despising each other one day in the future--although Xavier didn't see that being the case--they'd formed a significant attachment in the here and now. As Rohan's friend and confidante, seeing to the witch's happiness was of the utmost importance to Xavier.
So, a little over a week but not quite two weeks later, the demon walked up the club door and greeted the bouncers with a nod.
"Good evening, gentlemen," he said pleasantly. "I am Mr. Rossmara. I would like to see Lady Dune if she's available. She should remember me, I came earlier this month with Mr. Mello."
January: Just as before, the pulse of the nightclub could be felt from a block away. The line at this hour curved around the building. The same two gentlemen in the same fine suits monitored the line, allowing those on a special list on their tablets through without question. The name Rossmara was enough to pull the velvet rope. A blue Jan Emb was stamped on the back of his hand, an ornate V beneath the square logo.
"Up the stairs to the left," said Lee.
Xavier: Xavier accepted the stamp and gave a second nod to the man who had spoken. “Thank you.”
The atmosphere inside the club was just as bone-rattlingly loud as he remembered but as he was here for business, he didn’t pay it any mind. Tried to, anyway. There was only so much he could tune out.
Following the bouncer’s directions, he went up the stairs to the familiar VIP area in search of his hostess. He was as impeccably dressed as the last time he’d been here, only this time he’d come armed with a gift.
January: Tonight Ariel Cassidy was not the point of interest on the stage. A woman with pink and white hair in a white dress was having the time of her life. Rosara written in elegant red font over her booth. A dubstep and K-pop blend that the crowd seemed to enjoy, matching the bubbly aura of their temporary disc jockey.
January would be found leaning against the polished metal and wood railing overlooking her little kingdom. Her pink dress with black applique matched the vibe of the evening.
She smiled at his approach and stretched backward like a cat.
"You left the priest at church tonight?"
Xavier: “Lady Dune.” Xavier inclined his head toward her and answered her smile with a charming one of his own. He braced himself because he knew that from this moment forward, he was going to be observed closely and that any conclusions arrived at as a result would likely be shared.
With Rhys especially.
“Good evening and yes, I did. How does the night find you? Well I hope.”
January: With or without Rhys, the demon was eyed up and down. There was no denying he had been undressed and redressed down to the last button.
"Mhm. I've wined, I've dined. Look what my new little treasure's given me." January kicked her foot back, showing off her glittering black stilettos. Her outfit matched from head to toe, down to her black and iridescent nails.
Showing off just to have those eyes on her. Something to tease Rhys with later.
She turned her back on her nightclub, leaning against the rail with both hands.
"What brings you back?"
Xavier: Her gaze was unmistakable and nostalgically familiar. He’d been the subject of such a gaze almost as often as he’d affected it himself.
Those eyes would most certainly be on her. To flatter and be flattered was its own delicate dance and in this case, he had to admire his own good judgement. The right ace had been placed up his sleeve.
“Lovely. And, if I may say, rather fortuitous.”
The demon reached into his suit jacket and produced a black velvet box which he proceeded to offer.
“Two things. Firstly, to give you this small token of my gratitude for your hospitality the other night. Secondly, to exchange a favor with you.”
January: She kicked off the rail and stepped closer. Breathed him in with a little hum lost over the chest-wrenching bass.
"Oh, honey," she gasped, offering the box back and turning, expecting him to know what to do next. "What blessing are you trying to earn? Rhys' hand in marriage? My god!"
Xavier: Ah, but of course. This was far from the first necklace he’d ever gifted, and it was lifted from its box and placed around her neck with delicate ease.
Xavier chuckled softly. “No, nothing to do with Mr. Mello. I actually came to talk about your Mr. Cassidy.”
The demon would wait until January turned to face him again before taking a deliberate step back to admire her. He’d chosen the perfect piece to give her.
“Beautiful.”
January: "Oh, now, don't go breaking Rhys' heart over a pretty ghoul." Gone were the days of her long hair, but her fingers ran through what she had anyway as she turned to face him, showing off his gift resting perfectly around her neck. Her outfit was now complete. Rosara will be jealous.
"Just tell me, is this business or pleasure?"
Xavier: Xavier shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing.” To either Rohan or to Rhys, although he doubted the vampire’s heart was his to break anyway. Things between them were as yet…somewhat nebulous.
“Business primarily, although the pleasure of looking at you while it’s conducted is a rather exceptional bonus.”
January: "You're very tactful with your words, like a gentleman." And she wanted him to know that she knew that.
"If it is business, then you'll follow me to my office where I can hear myself think." And she would take his arm for the trip, followed not so closely behind by one of her bodyguards.
Her office was a stark contrast to the nightclub surrounding it. Whitewashed exposed brick covered here and there by rectangular gray and black acoustic panels. Slate flooring to catch the click of her heels. Burgundy Monroe sofas faced each other, separated by a frosted glass table. Enormous glass figures hung from the ceiling at various heights and shapes beside her desk, creating a kind of maze playground.
What appeared to be a window behind her desk was in fact a floor-to-ceiling screen, set on a rooftop web cam somewhere in Brooklyn.
Her bodyguard planted himself outside of her office, giving them all the privacy they needed.
"Would you like something to drink, or straight to business?"
Xavier: “But of course.” Because Xavier was a gentleman, he inclined his head once again and held his arm out for her to take, feeling a strange sort of comfort in the gesture. There was a ceremony and formality to interactions like these that he found pleasing and…freeing.
Both parties knew where they stood and it made everything infinitely easier.
The office couldn’t have been more in contrast with the club and for that very reason, Xavier found he rather liked it. The glass and sofas caught his eye especially. They were exactly his color.
“I’m fine, Lady Dune, thank you.” He would wait until she sat before following suit.
January: January took her favorite place, the sofa nearest to her floating glass, crossing her leg over her knee. This was her territory, her home, her power. Though she didn't take up every inch of space where she sat, her presence was large enough. Elbow on her knee, chin in hand, she smiled at her guest.
"So, what do you want with my ghoul?"
Xavier: A fact that was very present in the demon’s mind as he smiled at his hostess. A sparkly little trinket and a gift for flattery could only get a person so far; in this world, respect and awareness kept you alive.
Respect, awareness, and knowing when you were at a disadvantage.
“Do you recall my associate Mr. Dalca? When we were here last, he made use of the card your Mr. Cassidy asked you to pass on to him. It seems they’ve taken a liking to each other and as Mr. Dalca is a good friend, I’d like him to have the opportunity to see where that leads.”
January: Rhys had not informed January of this visit, leaving this moment in the dark for Xavier to work his magic. He had faith in him, even if he was only a little amused by his reason. So long as the Toreador found a way to take full advantage would he not have an earful of her passive complaints about the upcoming games.
And those were steadily in her peripheral.
"I love my ghoul, but I'm not his mama. Mr. Dalca can play him with all he wants." She wasn't going to bite so readily.
Xavier: Independently of anything else, Xavier took January’s words to mean that she didn’t intend to interfere with whatever relationship Rohan had with the DJ. A small relief, and he’d take it on his friend’s behalf.
Xavier smiled and nodded. “Opportunity is a rare treasure, is it not?” he said, dropping his voice slightly. “Coveted by many but given to very few. And as a man who doesn’t enjoy leaving things to chance, I should like Mr. Dalca to be able to take full advantage of the opportunity he has to get to know Mr. Cassidy and I’m prepared to ensure that he does.”
January: Her smile was gentle, but losing something behind her lashes. Ostentatious displays sparked joy for her on many occasions; her love of foreplay, formalities, and blandishment bordered on problematic, but,
"We're in my office for business, darling, go ahead and spit it out. You haven't said anything that he can't do this very moment."
How wide had Rhys opened his mouth?
Xavier: “Very well.” Xavier gave a single nod and crossed his legs, leaning back in his seat.
“When we met, you told me it wasn’t every day that a demon came into your club. However, on that night, one did and there’s every chance that someday, another one might. A demon or something else with ill intent. In this world of ours, anything is liable to happen.
“But, as I’ve said, I am not a man who likes leaving things to chance. Mr. Dalca likes Mr. Cassidy and the only way he can explore that attraction to whatever lengths he likes is if Mr. Cassidy is around and whole.
“Therefore, my question to you is this: what would it cost to ensure Mr. Cassidy’s safety?”
January: She didn't want to budge on her belief that business should be a drop of the silly formalities. Clear and concise statements to move a project along. It was one of the reasons Rhys and Sapphira tolerated her at all. Security helped. Money certainly helped.
Was it any wonder the Lasombra enjoyed his company? A pirate priest didn't have many opportunities with a jewel such as this.
"Oh dear," she sighed, getting to her feet and around her desk. "Our beloved priest went and told you about that?"
Xavier: Xavier would neither confirm nor deny her suspicions. He didn’t need to. They both already knew the answer to her question.
“Threats are ever present, my lady. If my experiences are any indication, I daresay you might be familiar with the notion that if it isn’t one thing, it’s another. We don’t always know if something is going to come up or when, but occasionally we have a chance to preempt problems.
“As I said, I’m here to exchange favors. I realize my request isn’t a simple one but even if it were, everything has a price and I’m prepared to pay it.”
January: If only the demon knew. Had he been a part of her coterie a wine glass might have been thrown in his general direction. A tantrum, as Sapphira labeled them.
But she had said spit it out!
"So you've said something about a boon, something something opportunities, and speaking on behalf of your friend. Shouldn't he be the one in my office?"
Xavier: “He doesn’t know I’m in your office,” the demon sighed. And with damn good reason. “Or in the country for that matter. I’m here because I have chosen to be, not because I was asked to be.”
Xavier vaguely wished he’d taken her offer of a drink but his judgement maintained it was best he hadn’t.
“I want my friend to have what he wants and what he wants is your DJ. He can only have your DJ if something doesn’t happen to him. What would you like in exchange for ensuring that nothing happens to your DJ, Lady Dune?” He couldn’t put it any more plainly than that.
January: Despite the language tango they were having, January was already making plans. Her laptop powered on and opened to her calendar. Birthdays of every staff member. Every local DJ's schedule and birthday. Wedding anniversaries for her bodyguards, and every meeting she had ever had, in her own made-up shorthand.
"He will when we've concluded here. Unless you want Ariel to keep a secret." Those went well in relationships.
"I need to age him up a bit. He needs more practice. He has, mm, hasn't told me anything about September except a gig in a place called Inner City at the end of the month."
Her chin returned to her hand.
"I should be asking you that question, Ross. You're giving me a lot and asking for nothing."
Xavier: "Yes, he will," Xavier said with a nod. "I never intended to keep in the dark after the fact, only before." That way, Rohan wouldn't have a chance to talk him out of it and wouldn't have a reason to worry, or so Xavier hoped.
"Asking for nothing?" The demon smiled and shook his head. "My dear Lady Dune, I'm asking for quite a bit. Beyond asking you to make sure harm doesn't come to Mr. Cassidy, I'm asking you to help make someone happy. That hardly counts as nothing."
January: "That's a very sentimental way of looking at things. In what way are you even a demon?" The only similarity to those foul-smelling nightmares was the penchant for playing with words like a bag of Scrabble chips. Double meanings, hidden agendas, and a determined lack of concision.
"Do you realize you come off more threatening and vague than persuasive?"
Xavier: The demon heaved a long sigh, staring a hole into January’s coffee table for a few moments. What he wouldn’t give for July to end. This month simply hadn’t been his, although…had any month in the past two years been his?
“I’ve been told I come across that way, yes,” he said quietly. “I suppose that’s the hallmark of being a demon.”
January: Well now, that was genuine. Her eyes roamed up to his forehead, around his hair, looking at something he couldn't see.
She gave a sigh of her own.
"Explain what you said before. Are you trying to threaten my club with your ilk?"
Xavier: Xavier fought the urge to sigh again. If that’s how he was coming across then he was truly losing his touch.
“Forgive me, it was not my intent to threaten you or insinuate that I would. I was only speaking hypothetically. I do not associate with my demonic brethren, I find them insufferable.”
January: She would sigh for them both. His carefully crafted walls were gently crumbling, just the way she preferred. She needed that to gauge whether or not this man was trustworthy with her precious treasures.
Her phone was brought to her ear. Seeing no reason to explain herself, she smiled and said, "Ari, baby, hi. I need you to pay me a visit. I'll be in my office. No! Nothing wrong. I'll see you soon."
Xavier: The best laid plans, Xavier thought dismally, going back to staring a hole into the coffee table. He couldn’t say he hadn’t been warned. Rhys had warned him.
This was not his day, his month, or his year. A meteor was probably headed right for him as he sat here talking.
Why couldn’t she have just asked for something and sent him on his way? A favor. A bit of magic. A head on a pike. Anything.
January: No amount of money or jewels was going to keep her from hearing Ariel's opinion, whether she agreed or complied with it or not. Not so old as to treat her ghouls as slaves, but not so young as to pretend they were equals.
"You expect him to stay under your roof?"
Xavier: Xavier looked up at January again with a furrowed brow. “Under my roof? Why would—Lady Dune, do you mean to give him into my care?”
January: "What else are you asking for? For me to send him away and that's that?"
Xavier: “I do not presume to tell others how to conduct their affairs, but I did think that was what you would do, yes. Or something to that effect.”
January: "If I'm sending him away I'm sending him to improve. Not unsupervised and unchaperoned in a city belonging to the Ivory Tower. Not during the games."
Xavier: Unsupervised? Unchaperoned? The sudden flashbacks to Holden White made him yearn for a bottle of scotch.
But, this was for Rohan and Rohan’s happiness. If it was in Xavier’s power to do something to help make sure nothing happened to the man his dearest friend was willing to give his heart to, then Xavier couldn’t just do nothing.
“I can offer safe haven at my estate. It’s heavily warded and the surrounding area is free of Kindred presence and influence. He’ll want for nothing.”
January: "The nearest city?" she asked, fingers ready on her keyboard.
This was not blind trust. She had yet to explicitly agree. Another conversation would have to happen between her coterie before finalizing, but it was Rhys who kept Xavier in this room and not on the curb. The number of reasons not to trust this demon was vast, but only one reason to trust him.
If a priest had faith in a demon...
Xavier: “My estate is in California. The nearest town is named Paradise.” And yes, he did in fact see the irony of that. “The nearest major city is Chico, if one can call Chico a major city.”
Her agreement may not have been concrete yet, but her questions led Xavier to believe she was seriously considering it. That had to be worth something.
January: "We will need the address, obviously. Paradise... oh." The irony was certainly visible, but her concentration was elsewhere. Too busy looking on a map.
"Sacramento, good. Reno. San Fran - hmm."
Her laptop was pushed to the side.
"Mr. Dalca can have him until Halloween if he wants, but in exchange, he has to be trained. That is the deal I'm willing to make. I love my jewels, but they can't be brittle. If this happens again then what? Hope he's still infatuated with a do-gooder? That is my price."
Xavier: Xavier wondered how long the games lasted if January was thinking so many months in advance, but it hardly mattered. The point was to keep the DJ out of them and away from them.
“What sort of training do you have in mind?” Hamilton could teach the boy to be an excellent butler and Ramsay an excellent mechanic but somehow Xavier didn’t think that’s what his hostess wanted from this arrangement.
January: "Well, he's no bouncer, but he's no blade of grass. Those who have survived the games took a beating and were able to stand back up. It's the one ability everyone dreads empowering."
Xavier: Ah. That sort of training. He recalled MJ undertaking such training with Leon’s familiar some time back in order to make himself stronger.
“So, if I’m understanding correctly, you would like me to find someone to beat him to a pulp on a regular basis.”
January: "Well, when you put it like that, I sound like a wicked woman. I love him enough to hurt him, because the alternative is death."
Xavier: Xavier shook his head. “I pass no judgments. The things we have to do to survive aren’t always pleasant or even tolerable. Simply necessary. And if that is what you require, then so be it. I’ll find him someone to spar with.”
January: "I'll make a list of cities he may work, but I'll think ill of you if you leave him on his own. Other than that, my darling, I need to speak with our favorite priest, and I'll shake your hand tomorrow."
Xavier: “He won’t be on his own but in the interest of full disclosure I must tell you that I am currently not living at my estate. I do, however, make it a point to check in frequently if you would like status reports.”
January: "So you're telling me he can just leave whenever he pleases."
Xavier: “Certainly not. The wards I have on my estate are such that they can stop someone from leaving or coming in at my discretion.”
January: Ah, her smile returned. "Perfect."
Xavier: This was the first time Xavier could recall anyone referring to his chosen method of security as ‘perfect’. The general opinion seemed to be that his wards were too extreme and his paranoia too great so this was…novel.
The demon got to his feet. “Very well then. I shall call on you again tomorrow evening.”
January/Ariel: "Absolutely." She wasn't certain how she felt yet. Miffed at Rhys for opening his mouth, but without it she would still be wringing her hands in debate whether or not to force Ariel into an extended vacation, hiding him like a bad secret, or allowing him in the games against older more capable ghouls. It wasn't that Ariel couldn't travel, couldn't enjoy his freedoms. It was the timing. Right now it was absolutely shitty timing. The Camarilla, the Inquisition, damn near everyone seemed out for blood.
Only feet from January's office did the very subject of his visit crash into him. So focused on texting, he hadn't expected anyone near his domitor's door except her bodyguard.
Ariel's hands danced to catch his precious phone before losing yet another in the span of a month.
"Oh! Hey! Sorry I - oh."
Xavier: Xavier wanted to be annoyed but he was at just as much fault as the ghoul for not paying attention. The only difference was that he’d been lost in thought instead of looking at his phone.
“It’s quite all right, Mr. Cassidy,” the demon sighed, already walking away. He had things to do and no interest in lingering. “Don’t walk and text.”
As soon as he was outside and away from prying eyes, he’d be making his way to the other side of the country to talk to Rohan and then going back home until tomorrow’s meeting.
Ariel: Xavier had turned into a mirage. One moment he was there and then he wasn't. Why was he there, and did that mean Rohan was nearby? Only days into their relationship, but he knew him well enough to know he would have said something. Still, he looked back at his phone and the very reason for his clumsiness.
{Text} Baby you in Brooklyn?
{Text} Made it to her office ttyl
Xavier/Rohan: Rohan frowned at his phone. That was odd. Why would Ariel think he was in Brooklyn?
{Text} No? I’m at home
{Text} Okay
He would have only a moment to ponder the sudden question before there was a knock at his door and, upon opening it, was greeted with yet another surprise.
Or, as it turned out, several surprises.
As succinctly as he could, Xavier explained to Rohan why he was at the estate and what he’d been doing just before coming there. He told Rohan about the conversation he’d had with Rhys, about the games, about his conversation with January Dune.
And perhaps it was because the meeting with January hadn’t gone as smoothly as he’d been hoping or because nothing in his life for the past month or year had gone smoothly but for a moment, he’d been worried about Rohan’s reaction and braced for the worst. At least until he remembered that he was talking to one of the few people on this earth who didn’t automatically expect the worst from him and he allowed himself to relax.
Rohan was appalled, of course, though not entirely surprised. Why wouldn’t vampires amuse themselves by pitting ghouls against each other when the same had been done throughout history?
But, like Xavier, Rohan too was reminded of the situation with Holden White. Even though the circumstances were different, one couldn’t help but notice the parallels.
Rohan just hoped that Ariel wouldn’t hate him by the end of it.
January/Ariel: Usually, conversations in his domitor's office were discussed as equals. Sitting across from one another on either couch. Drinks, music, and the occasional dance. He had come into this knowing full well what she was and what she was capable of. Aware of what her blood would do to him. Aware of his strengths and the target on his head. One day a difficult decision would be made on whether or not to age or to join her. He knew his place, and for three years he had been perfectly content in that place. Life fast. Die young. Whatever.
Tonight he remained by the table, and she on the other side of her desk.
"Why can't I just stay with my grandparents in Seattle?"
"Seattle isn't safe right now. It's not going to be for the foreseeable future."
"I'm not out telling people what I am."
"Doesn't mean someone won't notice. You forget what I can do?"
"What if I just -"
"It's already been decided. You can still work. There are plenty of cities nearby. I'm going to give you a black and white list. Just call it a tour or something. You'll be back in time for the Blood Rave."
The look on his face left room for argument. The look on her face dared him to try.
"Darling, this is a blessing! It's either this or the games. Is that where you want to be? And you get to visit... what's his name? Rohan, is it?"
"Can I go now?"
"I'll see you tomorrow with the details. Oh and, just one more thing." Her smile faded as he refused to meet her eyes.
"Look at me." She waited. "You're cut off from blood."
"What?"
"How old were you when we first danced? And how old are you about to be? Just this once, I promise."
"But I don't - I don't know what I'll look like."
"I promise, you'll still be beautiful. You'll have plenty to take with you before you leave."
A glaze had washed over his golden eyes. Looking as drained as a fed kine.
"Go home, darling."
Xavier: Had Xavier been human, he would’ve been utterly done in by the havoc that traveling between opposite sides of the planet had wrought on his internal clock. Not to mention everything else that had happened this month.
He’d left Rohan and January in the night only to return to daylight in Bangkok and his normal life. The next day would bring more of the same as he departed the daylight and traveled once more into night and to January Embers.
At roughly the same hour as the previous day, Xavier gave his name at the door and inquired after January.
January/Ariel: January rather preferred Ariel in his current state. There was no doubt in her mind he would be beautiful with his current age, but the following night her ghoul had returned with a fresh argument. A vial of her blood danced between her fingers as she stared once more at her forest of glass.
As Xavier had warned, Ariel's phone remained in his pocket this time. No crashing into the demon as he passed him. Only to stop several feet away.
"You know, you could have just invited me."
Xavier: Xavier was far too mentally exhausted to argue with this ghoul but still managed what could pass as a polite tone when he responded.
“Good evening, Mr. Cassidy. I did not approach Lady Dune with the intent to house you at my estate, that is simply how the chips fell. And even if it had been my intent, I can assure you I still would have afforded her the respect of approaching her first.”
Ariel: Fucking Dracula. He'd face him head-on.
"I'm my own person," he insisted, both hands on his chest.
Xavier: “That has never been in question,” the demon said with surprising patience. “But we all have someone above our heads.”
Ariel: "You still coulda asked me first. It's Rohan. I woulda said yes!"
Xavier: “Once again, I must emphasize that I did not plan for you to stay at my estate. That is merely the agreement I arrived at with Lady Dune, which I’m sure she explained to you already or plans to explain right now.”
The demon sighed and gestured toward January’s office. “Shall we?”
Ariel: Ariel swallowed and shook his head. "We just talked. Going home to pack. Just... " The ghoul wanted to throw his anger outwards like a sun prominence, but Xavier would see he just didn't have it in him. Raw unbridled anger was a stranger to him.
"If it involves me, just come to me first, okay? Please?"
Xavier: It was just as well. Xavier had no desire to waste any more time arguing with the ghoul or taking the brunt of his displeasure. He was exhausted enough as it was.
“Very well,” he sighed. “If you’re concerned about cohabitating with me or enduring my presence, you needn’t be. I’m currently living elsewhere. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Xavier took the last few steps toward January’s office and knocked on her door.
January/Ariel: Ariel was bringing his phone to his ear by the time January's door opened. Her bodyguard stepped aside, taking his leave to stand in the hallway.
"You are a man of your word!" January greeted with a smile. His necklace was still around her throat. Tonight she wore gold and black. Her favorite for celebrations.
In such a good mood tonight, she crossed the room to kiss his cheek. Too classy with her choice of lipstick to leave a mark.
Xavier: However exhausted he might’ve been, seeing a beautiful woman would always lift his spirits. The same went for a beautiful man.
In this, he and her clan were of a mind.
“My dear Lady Dune,” Xavier said warmly, giving her a genuine smile and taking her hand to kiss it. “It would be unforgivably rude for me to stand you up. You look absolutely exquisite in my gift.”
January: "You like?" The collar of her shawl dress was pulled aside, followed by a twirl. However frustrated last night had become, no one would be the wiser. A clean slate and fresh eyes.
"I think I was a bit harsh with you last night," she purred, both hands coming to rest like feathers on his chest. "I tend to expect certain things in this room, and I let my expectations get the better of me."
Xavier: Xavier nodded. “Very much so, yes.”
He wouldn’t stop her from touching him but beyond kissing her hand, he would make no further move to touch her. His own way of putting distance between them while seemingly not putting distance between them at all.
“Please, don’t spare it another thought. It’s water under the bridge and despite any tension, we managed to come to an agreement that satisfies us both. But I will apologize once again for my lack of tact.”
January: "I'll keep this short and simple so we can enjoy the finer things. Will you spare him a room in a month's time? Say, the beginning of September? I still think our exchange is too strong in my favor, so I'm going to offer you something else. Myself. A boon. Before you argue with me, you need to understand how much he means to me. I feel I was callous last night. You're giving me a gift."
Xavier: “Yes, of course. September works perfectly well.” Plus, it would give his staff time to open up the parts of the house that had been shuttered with him absent.
Not that he really expected the DJ to want to stay in the main house but one never knew.
A boon? Now that was certainly unexpected. He’d been fully prepared to offer her the same and instead, he was the one on the receiving end. Was it good fortune or good timing? Perhaps both.
“Hardly, Lady Dune. This agreement is mutually beneficial and although I don’t want you to feel it is necessary to make me such an offer, I am grateful for the gesture.”
January: He seemed to understand the gravity of her offer, and that was enough to satisfy her.
"Well then, now we can shake hands," she smiled.
Xavier: “We can indeed,” he said, offering his hand and feeling relieved in at least one aspect of his life.
Rohan’s DJ would be safe and alive and Rohan would be happy. That was all he wanted.
“A pleasure doing business with you, Lady Dune.”
January: "Mm, don't tell me you're leaving so soon. When I said we can enjoy the finer things, that included you. I don't have a priest on hand, but I have champagne, wine, music, and your choice of a beautiful face." With one exclusion, it seemed.
Xavier: “I can spare some time. Far be it from me to turn down an offer of wine,” he added with a smile. His duties were waiting for him back in Bangkok but a glass or two wouldn’t hamper his work, far from it. He’d barely feel them.
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Helix Waltz 2: The Burning Roses CBT - Qianyun Azura CG Story
(MTL) Translation:
Kalia Rovella: Mr. Qianyun, are you there?
Voice Inside the Building: Yes, is Miss Rovella here?
Qianyun Azura: Please sit down first, Miss Rovella. Ah, you...
K: What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with my dress?
Q: N-Not at all. It suits you well. The fabric, design, cuts, and finishes bring out your beauty.
K: You always know how to say sweet words, don’t you, Mr. Qianyun?
Q: You are my only guest today. As a friend of House Rovella, I invited someone whom I like to share a favorite thing of mine. That’s all.
K: Ah, as expected of a businessman’s eloquence. It’s hard not to be moved.
Q: Haha, sit down. I’ll prepare tea for you.
K: I’m ready to enjoy the authentic Tianxia tea ceremony.
Q: Of course, you’re free to do so.
K: (Well... Mr. Qianyun went to the cupboard to get tea. Isn’t it a little awkward? Should I talk about something?)
>Talk About Gramophone Music
K: I’m curious. Mr. Qinayun, what’s the name of this piece that’s being played by... the gramophone?
Q: Oh... It’s said to be inspired by picking tea leaves. In the early morning of May, when the sun is about to rise, the dew will not have completely dried.
K: Is that so... But it doesn’t sound like a song about labor. It gives off a feeling of ambiguity...
Q: Hahaha, music always reflects what people think... Do you understand?
K: Ah, perhaps I was mistaken.
>Talk About the Design of the Bead Curtain
K: Mr. Qianyun, the bead curtain at the entrance to this room is very stylish. When it moves, the light is reflected off the beads. The sound is also soft.
Q: I like the way it captures light and shadow too, but there’s a more captivating protagonist today, Miss Rovella. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear the sound of the bead curtain being moved in the afternoon.
K: Ahem... Are you saying I’m late?
Q: As long as you appear, it is never too late.
>Stare at Him
K: ...
Q: ...
Q: Miss Rovella.
K: What’s the matter, Mr. Qianyun?
Q: Why are you staring at me so intensely? I’m not going to poison you.
K: What are you talking about? I just think the way you make tea is quite elegant.
K: There’s a kind of grace that’s different from the nobles in the Rose Kingdom.
Q: Oh? Do you like it?
K: I’d have to taste it to know.
Q: Ah, that’s foul play, Miss Rovella. You don’t know how much you’re stirring the heart of someone from the Night Clan that’s been silent for a long time.
K: Ahem, I didn’t mean to do that.
Q: Well, go on. Take a sip from the cup.
K: No milk or sugar?
Q: There’s no need, Miss Rovella. Just as extra embellishments are unnecessary for true beauty.
K: Hmm...
Q: Well?
K: It’s... not bitter. It tastes good. Do people in the Tianxia Empire always drink this kind of tea? It’s completely different from the one in Rosara!
Q: Do you know of the small country north of the Rose Kingdom? They like to add white wine to black tea. The taste is quite interesting.
K: Huh, I never thought of that before...
K: The world is so vast, and although everyone drinks tea in different ways, time will seem to stop for tea when the bell strikes at four... It’s impressive.
K: Thank you for your hospitality today, Mr. Qinayun. Today’s tea... I like it.
Q: Are you leaving, Miss Rovella? You reminded me of a fairy tale about an enchanting princess who must rush home...
K: You’re joking. Only...
Q: Then let me send you off, Miss Rovella.
K: H-Huh? Mr. Qianyun? You...
K: I didn’t expect someone from the Tianxia Empire to be so daring...
Q: Isn’t it basic etiquette of a gentleman to clear the way for a lady, Miss Rovella?
K: E-Even if you say so...
Q: Wait, all right? Wait for this song to end, Miss Rovella.
K: ...Then you should be honest and tell me the real name of this piece, don’t you think?
Q: Infatuation. Infatuation in intoxication, in inextricability.
Q: Are you satisfied now?
T/N: Done via machine translation. Translations are not 100% accurate.
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